Is there life beyond New York?

Good morning, Monday. Had a lovely weekend in Denver visiting my niece and seeing some dear friends from Boulder. I'm surprised by how much I connected to the city- had been there before and never felt a "there" there but it's Fall and it's a lovely time to be in the mountains and I found the city overwhelmingly cozy, progressive, and charming.  As I walked around and wandered through different parts of town,  I started thinking what I inevitably think whenever I visit a place- could I live here?

I can't be the only one who does this. And as a New Yorker, you're well aware there's life outside your concrete solar system. But as a New Yorker, I suffer from what many of my fellow city dwellers face- and I'll call that FOLE. For the unfamiliar, that's Fear of Living Elsewhere. And it's real. For some reason, leaving New York seems daunting beyond belief.

I admit the thought of leaving New York is a scary one. But lately I've been getting that weird feeling- where my feet are dragging and I feel more depleted than energized by this amazing city. It happens every five years or so. I find myself annoyed by everything and everyone. Every siren, every crazy person running around in a plastic fireman's hat and screaming at people, and every everything about living here. I used to feel like leaving New York would be a stinging and resolute mark of my failure to succeed. But now? Hmm.

Because when you go to a city like Denver, where people seem genuinely stoked to be alive, you can't help but think about how different life could be. And that's the scariest part I suppose. Because it's the rule of weekends. Meaning- anyone or anything is wonderful for a weekend. You can fall in love just like THAT, but staying in love is the challenge. And that's the truth. Because even though I love all of those awesome midcentury houses in Denver, that dry air made my nose hurt. And those mountains are magnificent, but no ocean? Oh, and the very noticeable lack of diversity. Not to mention all that fleece. 

As I got off the plane and sat in choking traffic on the LIE, I felt tired. It's hard staying in love with New York sometimes. It's work. And I never, ever wanted to live anywhere else and I still don't.  But as I'm getting older and my priorities are shifting somewhat, I can't help but think about a weekend lover like Denver on a Monday morning. Could I be in it for the long haul? Or do I really only have one true love when it comes to where I live? It's funny- living somewhere else feels like cheating. That's how I felt the whole time in Miami. And it never felt right. Add that to the morbid fear I have around leaving New York, which somehow has become less of a place to live and more of an all consuming identity. 

It'll be interesting to see where the next few years take me- it's said that every 7 years your cells regenerate. I'm in one of those cycles now and it does feel like change is in the air, I'm just not entirely sure how it manifests. For now, I'll stay true to my number one city. But damn if it wasn't tough to get out of bed today and face another day of midtown meshugas. 

PS here's a few things I dug about Denver, even though I was there for such a short amount of time. Check 'em out:

This whole Dairy Block area in downtown Denver was super cool.  Loved the vibe and all the great food options- plus stores at experimental retail collective Free Market  like Jenni Kayne and Clare Vivier to round out the experience. I think the tech influx in Denver has made it much more fashion forward. That's a big shift from the last time I was there.

I love LOVE this consignment store, Common Threads. I found it in the Wash Park area (such a cute neighborhood). They've got super high end, designer things for fairly good prices. I guess those aforementioned tech types wear things once and then consign. Win win for the rest of us. I scored a fabulous pair of suede sandals to wear with my new collection of sparkly socks- and bonus- they were never worn.

The Hilltop neighborhood is full of incredible midcentury homes mixed in with mega mansions- art director's dream places everywhere. Very expensive but amazingly cool homes. Stunning truly.

The whole South Broadway area is a fun, grungy way to spend a day. I love all the record stores and all the vintage shopping. It's Denver's answer to the East Village of yesteryear.  Dug the vibe at Mutiny Information Cafe- a bit of a mixed bag of record shop, hangout, pinball arcade. It spoke deeply to my Gen X soul for its pop culture realness. 

Had an excellent meal at local haunt, Spuntino. The service was on point (though the cocktail service was slowwww), and the food was fresh, delicious, and of the highest quality. Lovely local spot- emphasis on Italian cuisine with experimental apps like Elk tartare (delicious). 

And it goes without saying that the cannabis industry is making things pretty interesting. I'm not opposed as you know (at all) and find the whole thing really, really cool. Different frequencies are good. Particularly in these times when you struggle to feel dialed in. And in a mountain setting where you can be outside? Not a bad hang. Not bad at all. Plus, it's so very entrepreneurial and new. It feels fresh and vital and exciting, truly.

So yea, I'm still here and not going anywhere right this very second. But I need to take more weekend lovers and find out if anything could stick- perhaps there's life beyond New York. Jeez. I get anxiety just saying that. 

Cause that's what's up this exploratory Monday back in the city. Yours, in rocky mountain highs and quick love affairs. XO





New York in the 90s and a don't miss documentary

Good morning, Tuesday. Quel gloomy in New York and appears to be that way for the next several days so meh. But if you're a fan of gloomy gorgeousness, you have to see the provocative and beautiful documentary "See Know Evil" about Davide Sorrenti, who tragically died young and was a prolific artist and photographer in his short and rather infamous life.

So a bit of history for those of you not indoctrinated in the vibes of 90s New York City- it was a very special time, I moved to New York in 1993 and felt the buzz of art, fashion, hip hop, street culture. It was vital and exciting and a little bit fucked up and dark. There was so much happening downtown you almost couldn't believe the creativity you were exposed to on a daily basis. It was like going into another world, the kind of world you always wanted to be in in as you came of age but couldn't access back home.  It was the 90s that came out of growing up studying Nan Goldin photos and early Details Magazine, a backlash to 80s excess, and a response to Kurt Cobain's call to entertain us. 

I fell hard for the art and fashion and music of the 90s. I loved Portishead, Brit Pop, Massive Attack, all of that phenomenal hip hop. And we know how great the fashion was- not necessarily the Raver lane but more the minimalist, sexy, unfortunately termed heroin chic trip. When you look at Davide's photography and watch an entire documentary about his life, you'll see how his work and time on Earth had that Roman candle quality that so many lives of artist have. They burn bright, and then fade away.

Looking at these photos gives me so much inspiration- the color, the patina, the quiet seductiveness. I love the styling too- there's a real elegance there I no longer see, and even though these kids were little street rats, they had so much style. I miss that level of
on point-atude. How can you not? I can remember very specifically how many beautiful people were in the city back then. My type of beautiful anyway. A little ragged, jagged, and raw. With that casual lank best accompanied by a Camel Light and a Heineken.

In any event, the 90s are back in a big way- fetishized by all the young people moving to a city that is no longer affordable (it wasn't then either but more so now) and lacking in that gritty grime of yesteryear. What I found so interesting about the documentary was his mom's explanation of the whole "heroin chic" moment and how Davide became a scapegoat for the whole movement. It's true he had a disease that most likely killed him, but he also was on heroin at the time, like so many of those mini Baudelairians running around Manhattan back then. If art is about documenting what's happening, I'm not sure you can blame a photographer for capturing it. As for the fashion industry, I'm not sure it's ever been their responsibility to not seize upon a moment in pop culture, but as we know since that whole backlash, the fashion business and particularly runways and magazines changed considerably. 

Regardless, these pictures are achingly beautiful. And they make me remember why I love photography  so much in the first place.  Crank up the Portishead and enjoy the rain. Have a 90s moment. Go ahead. I'm doing it too.

Cause that's what's up this trip hop of a Tuesday in the 212. Yours, in pretty pictures. XO



Maven pick: The Frankie Shop for the best Fall Outerwear

Good day Thursday. Oh and hey Fall. It seems you have finally arrived. And not a moment too soon. The gals in this town were starting to feel a bit robbed of their Fall frockery. I for one am kind of done with sandals and short sleeves. Bring on the sweaters and the boots. I'm craving some coverage, et tu?

So I don't know what's going on with my new favorite store, but truly- it's good. Very, very good. I discovered Frankie, who has shops in both Paris and New York, on a jaunt downtown a while ago, but for some reason like their website even more than their in store experience. There are so many great things here- they are not super cheap but they are also not obscenely expensive. If you want to step away from fast fashion but aren't quite ready for Celine, this is a good place to go. Chic as all get out too.

And one of their best offers right now is a gorgeous selection of jackets. Fall dressing is not complete without an assortment of awesome outerwear. I love just about everything they have and though my heart sank when this waxed trench showed up as unavailable. Merde.

But these other pieces are so money.  Sophisticated, chic, effortless. Easygoing clothes for our favorite time of year. 

This shacket (shirt jacket don't think I'm shouting out Steve Bannon. Remember him? Oy) is quite the thing right now- seeing tons of this silhouette in leather and just about every other material. Fabulous over just about everything and wonderfully versatile and layer worthy.

This blazer though. I had to have it. I am a big fan of brown. Probably the best color on me out there. I know. The color of poo. But it looks good on me and that's the truth so I tend to grab brown looks when I see them. This jacket is so chic with black pants as shown and a peek of a white shirt. I love how they belted it too but I'd most likely wear it more rumpled and unstructured. Gorgeous. Blazers are having a real moment this Fall, particularly of the houndstooth and Glen plaid varietal but I love the simplicity of this wonderfully basic piece. I'll wear it the same way I'd wear a black tuxedo jacket. Incidentally see below.

Right?

Bu this look here may be my fav of all. What is not to love about how chill this look is? Slouchy, cool, tomboy. All the things I want and desire. Gimme. 

Have a cruise around this spectacular site. I'm sorry not sorry for sharing. Cause that's what's up this light layer of a Thursday in the 212. Yours, in Autumnal style and outerwear crushes. XO


It's (almost) Leather Weather

Good morning, Tuesday.

It's starting to feel like Fall although tomorrow it's 90 and then back to 50 so who even knows what's going on. OK, I do. What's going on is a whole lotta leather for Fall (and judging from the Spring 2020 runways in Paris, the trend will continue into next year). Leather jumpsuits. Leather skirts. Leather dresses. Leather shirts. And if you don't wanna wear real leather, there's plenty of fabulous vegan options out there too. One thing's for sure- leather is having a bonafide moment this season. And let me tell you, I love it. I am such a fan- leather is sexy, rock and roll, completely cool at any time. Slinking around in leather pants might be one of my favorite cold weather past times but that's just me.  Oh and I'm gonna show you looks that are BLACK. Because that's what's up. There's nothing better. Look at a young Francoise Hardy above. Chic forever and ever.

Take this faux leather overshirt thing is fab from Zara. Wear it with jeans or thick black tights and high heeled boots and instant awesome ensues.

This leather midi skirt means business during the day, and can be vamped up for night. I love the button up front, and would wear this with everything from a slim ribbed sweater to a denim shirt to oh, I don't know- everything.


Oh and if you're feeling sassy, this faux leather jumpsuit may do the trick. I love this. I'd wear it EVERYWHERE. With sneakers, with heels, all of it. Everything. Love.

Black patent jeans? Ya. I love 'em. So exceptional with a black blazer and a tank. Very hot. Sure you best be fit to wear these, so if you can, do. I'll support you.

This faux leather slip dress is cute with a turtleneck underneath and some Gazelles. 

And if you're not yet convinced that leather is magical, I give you the McQueen show from Paris yesterday. I can't. I can. I want it all. How amazing are these pieces?

Loving on some leather this season and beyond. Classic rock and roll cool for all. Cause that's what's up this slithery Tuesday in the 212. Yours, in buttery goodness. XO






Fashion: A love letter to rock and roll gypsies and tuxedo queens from Saint Laurent (et moi).

Good morning, Wednesday.

Remember that post I wrote at the end of NYFW about how fashion is changing and it's no longer about the clothes, at least on the New York runways? Well Paris proved me right, because I mentioned that the European shows are still very much about the clothes, and yesterday's Saint Laurent show stands out in my mind as a tribute to women who STILL LOVE CLOTHES.

I still love clothes. I most likely always will. And though I'm trying to be more of a discerning (aka less) shopper, when I see a runway show like this, I feel my pulse quicken. Because these are heart thumping, fashion is still alive gorgeous clothes.

These are clothes for women that understand a YSL Ballet Russes reference.  These are clothes for women that look at Stella Tennant in a sequined le smoking and say "oui". Out loud. in earshot of other and not caring at all.  Also, to stage a show at the foot of the Eiffel Tower and close it with Naomi. I can't. But yes. Yes I can.

These are clothes for women to aspire to- of all age- because they contain an ageless sex appeal. I'm not going to pretend these clothes are for women of all sizes, because they're not. But women of all sizes can channel the vibe of these pieces. Every woman can rock a tux or a beautiful printed peasant dress with boots. Or something metallic. Oui. And oui again. A resounding oui.

And though I've never been an Anthony Vaccarello fan, this collection is dynamite. His clothes were always a wee too tight and too short for my tastes, but he's giving Saint Laurent the love it needs, the homage it's earned, and the legacy it deserves. I'm obsessed. And every single piece of this collection will be knocked off in Zara, so look out for that. In fact, I got the gold boot that looks to be a very direct descendant of the ones on the runway yesterday. Go me. I would show them to you but they're now unavailable and don't want to achy break your heart.

I love fashion and I love to have fun with it. It's in my DNA and that's the truth and sure it's frivolous and not the most important thing on Earth, but it gives me so much joy. Have a look and tell me what you think. It's not earth shattering in terms of inventiveness, but darn if most women I know wouldn't love to own just about everything on this runway. It has everything a woman could want- pretty dresses, sparkly stuff, all black everything. All hail the rock and roll gypsy. All hail the androgyne. All hail Saint Laurent with the serious 70s vibes. I'm a believer, baby. All day.

PS the hair. The hair is so good. Just how I like it. Rock and roll chop chop. Oui.

Cause that's what's up this fashion forward Wednesday in the 212. Yours, in French kisses. XO

I feel like I'm 25 again

Good almost afternoon, Thursday. There's a chill in the air, and my jazz-filled taxi ride uptown today gave me a sweet moment of pause. I do so love the Fall. It's my favorite.

But yea, about that headline up there.

I feel like I'm 25 again, but not in the way you're thinking. Lately, there's been a lot of stress-provoking challenges around me- nothing life-threatening in any way, so don't worry. Just things that make you think about how you navigate change when you're faced with it, and how toxic situations can really do a number on you. 

When I was in my 20s, I'm not ashamed to say I suffered from a tremendous amount of anxiety. I was living in New York and working really hard but incredibly scattered. If you've ever suffered from anxiety, you know how it is- everything feels daunting and freaky, and your nerve endings are firing and frayed. I feel those feelings creeping up on me again, but as someone who is almost 25 x 2, I feel more equipped to handle them. How much of the anxiety is PMS/hormonal? Some. That absolutely gets worse as you get older, I'm not gonna lie. But right now there's some stuff I need to handle that feels toxic, like if you were handling toxic chemicals but didn't know how to touch them. I'm getting there, and though I know the feeling is situational, it still kind of sucks. 

For the past few months, I've been feeling absolutely fabulous. Truly. There's blips and blops when I lack the luster but for the most part, so good. And then a few weeks ago after I got robbed I started feeling not so fabulous. It wasn't about the stuff per se, it just caused a lot of primordial yuck in my life and made me really uncomfortable. As a proud Cancerian crab lady, my home is my sanity and my sanctuary. So that all felt awful and started overshadowing all the good stuff that was happening. And then just like that- I'm a 20something angsty woman trapped in an almost 50something grown-up body. Weird, right?

My point is- I've been so relieved in this thing called life to get to feel as healthy and happy and confident as I do, even though as a woman I'm told my value is declining as I age by society. There is no way you could pay me to go back to my 20s. Or even my 30s. I'm so damn happy to be where I am that when something fucks with that, I don't like it. At all. PS- I can hear some of my more stoic friends muttering under their breath as they're reading this saying "yea, but that's life." Yea. No kidding.

But anxiety is not a state I want to live in. I'm feeling a great need for some softness. The difference between anxiety then and anxiety now is I think I'm better situated to cope and also know what I need. And right now a little warm and fuzzy with all the sharp angles would be just ducky. Truly. 

This morning as I was dropping off Khan's breakfast because I screwed up the days I would be boarding him (another anxiety-producing moment), I saw an older man throwing up on the street, which, let's be honest, is pretty gross. But so many people walked by him, and not one asked him if he was ok. He was crouched down by the garbage on the street, and I locked eyes with him and asked him if he needed some help. He told me he would be fine and suffers from acid reflux, and he "never knows when it's going to happen like this." Poor guy. I felt for him. I usually would feel sick to my stomach watching someone puke in public, but something about the tough few weeks I had made me want to be compassionate to someone else. It made me feel better to ask. Because at that moment, even though I was stressed trying to get my dog his breakfast, this guy was in much worse shape than me.

Like my friend with the reflux, nobody knows what's coming. That's the fun of life and the scary part, too. It's essential to feel all the feels, though. This much I know. And I find that actually talking about this stuff with other people helps (imagine that). I really used to be a girl who liked to keep it all in. I didn't want people to see my vulnerabilities because I was so busy trying to be tough. Right now, I'm a little raw. And I'm good with that. I'm eternally grateful for moments that make me remember that everything is going to be ok. Like jazz-filled cab rides at 7 am up Sixth Avenue. Or early morning chats with a friend and coworker about whether Murphy beds are appropriate at this stage in the game (I don't think they are, or at least not for me). Or simple things like little Khan letting me spoon him when I can't sleep. 

I'll be honest- I'm a woman who fears change. It seems counter to who I am, but I genuinely do, and I've talked about it here many times. It's not so much the change itself, it's more the anxiety around the who, what, why, when, and how. That'll do me in if I let it. But for now, as I sit here sharing this with all of you, I'm feeling ok. I'm not gonna let that 25-year-old back into my head. I'm grown enough to know that everything is generally solvable. I just felt the need to connect with you all here as I've been busy working and haven't had a lot of time to write my own stuff of late. Look for a retool of this blog coming very soon- on a bit of a delay, but it's a change I'm actually excited about.

Cause that's what's up this I'm ok, you're ok kind of Thursday in the 212. Yours, in bigger, better, and onward. XO

 

Maven pic: A fresh take on a classic denim jacket

Good afternoon, Tuesday. Howzit? I've been busy of late and haven't been here much but had to share with you something I've had my eye on for a minute that just went on sale for 30 percent off so here's your very own Maven steal and deal for the day.

I'm always on the lookout for a great denim jacket. Though I love my classic dark denim Gap version I've had forever, I also love to freshen up with a new piece when the feeling and fiscally friendly moment strikes.

So I was thrilled to see this unusual offer from Levis, really the best denim purveyor of all time as we all know. I spotted it first on
Bird's site (a local store in Brooklyn whose looks are soooo good) and fell in love with it. And then just like that, I got an email from Levi's about 30 percent off site wide, and there you have it. A new denim jacket for under 100 bucks. I'm still searching for a vintage Helmut Lang, but that's not here nor there...

So this one has a belt you can wear if ya feel like, or the oversized trucker feel is perfect for layering with a chunky sweater underneath. I like the capelike silhouette and can picture it with skinny jet black jeans or trousers and a pointy high boot. One and done. Thank you. Next. Give it a whirl. Why the heck not?

But one thing I won't be buying from Levi's? A jean called "The Ribcage Jean". You decide if that's a good thing. I don't think it is. Not at all no. Ouch.

Cause that's what's up this supercute Tuesday in the 212. Yours, in denim daydreams and Fall fashion. XO




Fashion Week is Dead. Long Live Fashion Week!

Good afternoon, Friday. TGIFFFFFFFFF.

So NYFW came and went and at the beginning of it, I remarked on Facebook that I felt the clothes were so stupid and ridiculous and to be honest, a ton of them were. But towards the end of the week, the usual suspects like Michael Kors and Ralph and Tom Ford came out with runways full of women that fit the brief of what I've known to be Fashion Week my whole fashion geek life- a long runway, models, a posh, aspirational crowd with Anna Wintour, celebrities, and big buyers like Linda Fargo from Bergdorf Goodman. And Marc Jacobs, who always ends Fashion Week, provided eye candy that delighted all of us who want to see him win. And win he did- with a dizzying array of kooky looks that celebrated individuality with his signature chic and cheek. Lovely.

Almost as genius as his show was this amazing review of it in the New York Times, written by Vanessa Friedman. Of course, she gushed over the Marc show, but she also showed me how the new version of Fashion Week should have us all rooting for fashion again. And if fashion is and always has been a barometer for the times, then it stands to reason it needs to evolve and change. And it has.

From the article:

"The gravitational forces of New York fashion are moving; its map is being rewritten and identity reinvented by a group of designers with a different sense of history and voices that demand to be heard. The conversation about race and power and gender is reshaping how we express ourselves and who understands that best".

So very true- the piece goes on to talk about how fashion is no longer about the ladies who lunch or "Wall Street wives" but an experiential, youth and creative-driven moment that speaks to fashion being more of a creative formula than just about the clothes.  It's about the shows that felt more like parties where young people could express themselves, however they identified or related or wanted to present to the world. And it's high time for it, truly. Because maybe it's less about fashion defining us, and more about the people defining fashion. Which is wonderful. 

And as Friedman states at the end of her piece:

"...what makes it American is not its roots in blue jean utility, but the fact it is free of the restrictions of heritage that make it so hard for European brands to change. It reflects the freedom of reinvention that the American promise was built on. It’s disruptive and messy and happy to color outside the lines. It’s not yet fully realized, but it is on its way".

So let the Europeans do their shows and let us gawk at the clothes and the models for their elegance (incidentally I too will gawk). Over here we're busy shaking some shit up. As a huge fan of style as a form of self-expression, I love this watershed moment in culture. Hooray for fashion. Hooray for New York. Hooray for young people demanding change. America is at it's best when we challenge the norm and reinvent culture. Let's keep going. Cause that's what's up this fashionable Friday in the 718, Yours, in changin' times and hemlines. XO

Maven Pick: The Only Vegan Leather Legging you need this Fall/Winter

Good morning Thursday this will be a quick hit as I'm a busy bee today.

I'm fairly certain I've shared my love for Emerson Fry, a fashion favorite brand of elevated basics made right here in NYC. I love their cool cred and classic/rock and roll vibe. I got an email from them this morning about the release of their vegan leather leggings for Fall, and I have to tell you- if you buy one thing this Fall, buy these. (You'll obviously need a top and shoes too, but you get my drift).

Their vegan leather leggings are a cold-weather go-to for this maven. I literally buy two or three pairs so I can wear them all season and switch them out.  I love to wear them with sweaters and blazers, and in place of tights under dresses for a cool look. I'm not sure if these are exactly like the pairs I have from last season, but I've been stocking up on these for the past few years since they've been making them and they are perfect and always a home run. They fit true to size and really have the feel of real leather. Link to buy here.

Go get yourself a pair, girlies. You won't be sorry. Fall is almost here, even if the NY weather says otherwise.

Cause that's what's up this quickie of a Thursday in the 212. Yours, in pleather report realness. XO



A Classic New York Weekend

Aloha, Monday. I say aloha because I had an anxiety dream last night about losing a gig and not being able to get to Hawaii (no idea) and being very sad about it. So aloha again.

This weekend can only be described as quintessential New York City. 

Was I prancing through Central Park, enjoying a late Summer day with my dog? Was I shopping for stylish sweaters in Soho? Or was I boozy brunching somewhere fabulous in Brooklyn? Um no. Not really.

Because instead, I was robbed on Friday night. Yes, robbed. Outside of my apartment hangs a set of hooks where my raincoats (including a Burberry trench) resided, and my husband's beautifully broken in Belstaff. Plus my cycling shoes and a sweet, giant beach bag I picked up from Target. We were home, watching a movie, and when David went to take Khan for a walk around 10:30, he returned to find the hooks picked clean. They left my wellies and all the shoes in the basket but took a bunch of outerwear. An outerwear thief. Bizarre. When the cops came, it was like central casting. Two beat cops who asked me why I had such expensive coats hanging outside. One of them called my Burberry a Blueberry. The sergeant who showed up later was a poor man's Michael  Peña, who could not understand why I needed so many fancy raincoats. He had a point, I suppose. As they left, I awkwardly thanked them for their service.
  
I live in a brownstone with one apartment on each floor, and I have no idea how anyone could have gotten into my building which is entirely secure, but they did. It's completely nuts. And horrible.

And then as we attempted to heal, Sunday rolled around and it warm and lovely, so we decide to take K for a walk in our neighborhood. That's when, at around noon, we found a HUGE crow, or perhaps a raven. Just sitting on the sidewalk and not moving. He was standing like a stone next to a parked car which, of course, had to pull out. It was a mother and son, and the son kept throwing Terra chips at it. No dice. No chip could move this poor injured bird. He/she couldn't fly, and both of us couldn't leave a sick animal in that state. We called a million vets and then found a place on the Upper West Side that rescues birds and other winged types. And then we took matters into our own hands. Literally. 

David being the scrappy Kentuckyian that he is found a banana box with holes in it and shooed our bird friend (let's call him Amity since we saw him at the corner of Amity and Clinton) into the box and I ran and got an old towel to cover it up, as per the recommendation from the Audobon Society (thank you Google). We then got into our car, Khan on my lap, and put the box in the backseat. 

I can tell you I have been in many panic-inducing experiences in my life, but few have ever made me feel more heightened than a dying bird flailing around in the back of my car. Or maybe it was when he stopped moving halfway up the FDR that I started feeling like I was going to throw up. Did we kill the bird? Turns out we didn't. But that was a long 45 minutes to get uptown. Possibly the longest of my life. I'm scared of birds a bit, particularly giant black crows. Apparently, they are sacred animals in many cultures, so think we did a real mitzvah.

When we got to the rescue, which incidentally, was not some sort of sanctuary but a storefront on Columbus Avenue, I exhaled for the first time in several hours. I stayed outside with the dog as David took Amity inside. He told me the space was insane- full of chickens and turkeys walking around and an abundance of birds. Kind of my nightmare but thank goodness for these bird lovers. Truly. We'll get an Amity update tomorrow, ps. Stay tuned. Incidentally, I ran into a work friend just outside the bird spot, and she seemed nonplussed by it all. It's tough to shock a New Yorker. Even with a giant crow in a banana box in the back of your car. True story.

Needless to say, I slept in and skipped the gym this morning. I feel like I've been run over by a truck. Robberies and rescues require relaxation. I'll need to catch up on that next weekend. Let's hope for a little less excitement. And I pray it won't rain. Because I no longer have the proper attire.

Only in New York, kids. Only in New York. Cause that's what's up this keeping it together kind of Monday in the 212. Yours, on a wing and a scare. XO